Sinnoh: A tale of Time and Space
by Dmerle7
Summary: As their time at school comes to an end, Blake and Hugh, two budding trainers prepare to embark on their journey across Sinnoh, collecting gym badges, and battling to become the best. But with tales of a legendary heading towards Sinnoh, and whispers of a strange organization calling themselves Team Galactic, the two find themselves plunged into an adventure neither had imagined.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Blake and Hugh

Drew woke face down in his papers, his arms and hands mottled black with ink. The candle he had lit the previous night was barely aflame, wax had melted down the sides like tears, and the wick had been reduced to smoking cinders, filling the room with the smell of ash. He pushed it to one side as he gathered up his papers in a heap, stacking them in a orderly pile besides him. The book that he had been translating sat at the head of the table, Sinnoh; A tale of Time and Space. It was a laborious old tome, the pages as wrinkled and yellowed as Drew's skin. They were illustrated with strange symbols and devices, markings that were all but unknown to the world three centuries hence. Few people remained who had the knowledge and skill to read them, and fewer still the patience for such meticulous and diligent work. He rose, awkwardly shuffling towards the window to pull open the shutters, his eyes teared as they adjusted to the bright sunlight that shone through and he turned his back, collapsing back into his seat. For three whole weeks he had laboured day and night to unravel the secrets that the book's pages held, his body seemed to be failing him, deteriorating with every passing breath. His eyes and mind remained as sharp as in his youth though, and for that he was thankful. He did not fear death, but he feared he might not complete his last assignment. He feared failure, but above all he feared his master. He feared Cyrus.

The lesson was already ten minutes into progression when Blake burst into the classroom. The entire room seemed to intake a breath as the students glanced up nervously at their teacher, Professor Raymond. "I..I.." Stammered the young lad. "I'm sorry I'm late sir!" He wore the school's standard uniform, a white shirt and black trousers. Only instead of black shoes like the rest of the class, he wore white sneakers, paired with a blue snapback pulled sideways over his head.

"Hat," Professor Raymond said simply. Blake pulled it off his head, unveiling a short mess of unkempt golden hair. He tossed the cap towards the teacher, who picked it out the air, placing it under his desk. "What was it this time?" he asked. "A stampede of Tauros, a gang of Zangoose, or perhaps you got caught by an Alakazam's Hypnosis?"

"No, no, and I don't think so," Blake replied. "Just slept in." The Professor raised his thick brown brows. "Sir," he added quickly.

"Well please join us." Professor Raymond crossed his burly arms as Blake dashed towards the back of the classroom, pulling up a chair next to his best friend Hugh. "Also," the teacher added as he collapsed into his seat. "Next time I suggest you slip into something a little more appropriate for class."

"Like a coma," Hugh whispered, flashing him a grin.

Blake tried to keep a straight face as he met Professor Raymond's stare. "Yes sir," he told him amiably.

"So what was it really?" Hugh asked quietly as Blake pulled his textbook out his rucksack.

"I Just slept in, honest."

Hugh stared back at him, his deep blue eyes sparkling with mirth. "Fine," he said. "I suppose it is hard to find anything exciting when I'm not around."

"Exciting?" Blake asked with a wry smile. "So that's what they call it." He shuffled through his book as Professor Raymond turned around from the whiteboard where he was writing. He began to copy down the teachers words, The regional Berries of Sinnoh and their numerous uses..

"Well what else would it be called?"

"Hmm," said Blake, feigning bewilderment. Since he and Hugh had become friends, Blake had joined him on more than a couple of his "adventures." They seemed to involve something either incredibly dangerous, daring, or just downright stupid, although usually a combination of all three. Like the time Hugh had smeared him with honey and made him run through the woods to attract an Ursaring for the school's photograph competition. The resulting shot had been so blurry that they didn't even bother to enter it. "But on the good side" as Hugh had pointed out, Blake had probably set a new land speed record.

"The Sitrus berry," Professor Raymond droned on. "Will restore a small portion of a Pokémon's health, it is recognized by the distinctive golden color, orange spots, and jagged texture."

"Sitrus berry," Blake muttered absent mindedly as he scribbled the details down. "Golden, orange spots, jagged texture, got it."

"Sir?" A girl asked at the front of class.

"Yes?" the teacher replied, pausing.

"Can people eat Sitrus berries?"

"Excellent question!" He said, clapping his huge hands together. Hugh and Blake glanced at each other, grinning. They both found great amusement in how animated Professor Raymond seemed to get about berries. "It can be eaten raw, but I wouldn't recommend it. Excessive consumption can lead to stomach pains and nausea. More often that not you'll find it cooked as either Poffin's or Pokébread.

"Excessive consumption," Hugh echoed quietly, grinning. "I think old Raymundo's has been excessively consuming something, I'm not entirely convinced it's berries though."

"Yeah, but I bet it grows in the woods," Blake replied, stifling a laugh behind his hand. He flicked to the front of his notebook, finding Monday's schedule. 9:00am: Regional studies: 10:15am: morning break. 10:30am: Maths. 11:30am: English. 12:30pm Dinner. 1:30pm: Pokémon studies. 3.30pm: Trainer studies. "Six whole hours until trainer studies," he said to Hugh with a resigned sigh.

"Right. Rock on half three. What have we got next?"

"Maths, with Mrs Clack." Blake cursed, she was the strictest teacher in the school. Even Hugh feared her wrath and tried not to entice it. Too much. Maths was Blake and Hugh's least favorite lesson, with Trainer studies being their favorite. Up until their final year the students would attend a general Working Life class but during their final year they were allowed to choose one of three classes on top of it; Ranger studies, coordinator studies or trainer studies. They had both chosen the latter. Blake had always wanted to be a trainer. His brother Kevin who was the oldest was a ranger training in the Almia region. Meanwhile His sister Ellie was a coordinator, she had moved to Hoenn for a while.

When Blake had been younger and his brother and sister's goals had become apparent, his parents had told him jokingly he would have to become a trainer so they could have one of each in the family, a promise he was happy to fulfill. Being a trainer had been his only dream ever since he had seen his first Pokémon battle on television. He still remembered it as clear as glass. The dazzling attacks exploding in a thousand different colors, the Pokémon roaring as they collided into each other in great clouds of dust. The excitement and enthusiasm in their trainer's voices as they shouted their commands.

"Ow!" he cried suddenly as Hugh jabbed him in the ribs with a bony elbow. "What was that for?" he asked, Hugh motioned to the front of the class and he looked up.

Professor Raymond was staring right at him. "It seems even that extra ten minutes sleep didn't suffice," he observed dryly.

"Right, I'm sorry sir, I was daydreaming."

"Oh? Somewhere nice I hope?"

Blake beamed. "Somewhere great."

The students waded through the forest, Blake and Hugh were at the front, full of it. While a gang of the girls had fallen to the back, their short skirts and heels were ill suited to the forest, especially the occasional tangle of thorns or vines they had to scramble through. Hugh glanced back at them, shooting them a roguish grin. "You'd think we were going on a night out," he said.

Blake laughed. "Still, I'm not complaining."

"Oh me neither," Hugh tossed the Pokéball he held into the air, catching it again. It was a modified version of the Safari ball that the school supplied for trainer studies. Fairly ineffective for capturing anything more substantial than the occasional Oddish or Caterpie, the teachers would take any Pokémon the students caught, and either release them or keep them for a few classes. "Where's Mr H got too?" Hugh asked.

Blake glanced around, shrugging. "He's probably swinging around on some vines somewhere."

"Yeah or pissing up a tree." Hugh added, both of them chuckling. Suddenly there was a rustling noise straight ahead, Blake quickly crouched, grabbing Hugh's arm and pulling him down too.

"What is that?" Blake hissed.

"I don't know, here." Hugh passed him a Pokéball, they both started to edge silently towards the tree's, when suddenly it burst out. It was the teacher, Mr Harold. Or at least his huge belly emerged first, and the rest seemed to follow a few short moments later. "Boys! Boys!" he said, laughing. "How do you expect to catch Pokémon making that racket?"

"We don't," Hugh told him. He motioned back to the girls who had managed to fall behind even further. "I doubt there's be a Pokémon around for miles. Unless they like the sound of gossip, and the smell of cheap perfume."

The Professor chuckled, his great moustache quivering with every motion "Don't let them discourage you lads! I'm still impressed with your captures last week. A Kakuna and a Sentret is no mean feat!"

"The Kakuna was just dangling there like a Christmas bauble," Blake replied. "It would of been harder not to hit it, and that Sentret was just plain stupid, it ran straight into a tree."

The teacher roared with amusement again, patting his oddly shaped reddened nose. "Don't we all walk into tree's from time to time?" Hugh and Blake glanced at each other with a look that said they didn't. "I'll make great trainers of you both." He clapped them on their shoulders. "Listen boys, why don't you two go scout ahead while I go check on the other students, ey?" He gave them a wink, turning around and waddling off. "I expect nothing less than a Dialga and Palkia next time I see you both!" he shouted over his shoulder. "Don't get lost!"

"Free reign it looks like." Hugh grabbed Blake's arm, leading him off to the right through some thorny shrubbery. "Listen, there could be all sorts in this wood; Eevee. Treecko. Sneasel. We've got to bag something good."

"You're leaving out the dangerous ones; Pinsir. Heracross. Ursaring" Blake said the last one with particular venom. "Besides even if we do catch something good it'll be back in here within a week."

"Come on man!" Hugh thumped him on the shoulder. "Think of the honor. Think of the glory. Hell, think of the girls!"

Blake rubbed his shoulder. "Fine, but if I even so much as catch a whiff of Ursaring piss I'm gone like a flash."

"Come on man, we've been in this place a hundred times. What can go wrong?"

"Yeah," Blake muttered under his breath. "What indeed?"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:The Fire Rises

"..Known as the creation trio; Time, Space, and Distortion. People think them angels, guardians of Sinnoh. That they will descend in a time of great crisis. They will not. They are the embodiment of evil and vengeance, monsters I hope this world will never see. I would give them more fitting titles; Death, Darkness and Despair."

Translation from a tablet unearthed in the Celestic Town ruins.

Eterna Forest's giant tree's stood vigilant as the boys passed, the biggest of them twisting and towering a hundred feet into the air. Some had toppled over, leaving the forest a wreckage where they had struck the ground like a comet. Others had fallen to age and blight, skeletons and hollow shells of what they once were. Blake saw Hugh ahead, the gentle wind had ruffled his messy black hair and he stood with one leg perched on a log like some great adventurer. "Jeez," Blake told him as he caught up. "What's the rush?"

"I thought we were trying to put the others behind us," he replied.

"There's a difference between "going ahead" and sprinting off," said Blake. "We'll end up running straight past all the rare Pokémon."

"Or into a tree," said Hugh, grinning. "You seen anything yet?"

"The whole forest is littered with Wurmple, and I just about trampled some Budew catching up with you." Blake shrugged nonchalantly. "That's all though."

"Well that's no good." Hugh leaped over the log, and strode forwards, pausing to beckon Blake over his shoulder. "You coming then?" Blake followed with a groan.

The deeper into the woods the boys got the denser it became. The trees packed so tightly together the Sun above had disappeared, leaving little more than a faint glow from in between the branches, just enough light to avoid the various obstacles which littered the forest floor. Great rocks and ensnaring vines, even the occasional Sandshrew Burrow. The deeper and further into the forest they got, the more eerie it seemed. Even Hugh's pace had dramatically slowed down, he trotted just ahead of Blake, his eyes darting around apprehensively. "Listen!" Blake called. His words echoing strangely around the trees . "You think it's time to turn around?"

Hugh stopped, brushing some stray leaves from his shoulder. "Maybe," he admitted reluctantly. He turned towards Blake, opened his mouth to speak, then suddenly threw himself downwards into a crouch.

"What is it?" Blake asked, suspecting a joke.

"You didn't hear that?" Hugh mouthed. "Listen!"

Blake stood as silent as a statue, straining his ears. The trees surrounding them creaked and groaned ominously but that was nothing new. He heard the rustling of the leaves in the wind, and a Murkrow cawing in the distance, but nothing that sounded out of place.

HSSS

Blake dived to the ground too. It sounded strange, unnatural almost. It was a faint sound, like the hissing of a kettle, little more than a whisper on the wind. But something gave Blake the impression it was close. "What the hell was that?" He whispered to Hugh, his heart pounding in his chest.

Hugh tried his hardest to sound unfazed. "It's nothing, just someone taking a leak probably."

Blake managed a weak smile, but he was unconvinced. "Lets get out of here," he said. Turning to go, then he saw it. A purple orb surrounded with a ghostly mist, it's eyes were narrow white slits, and it wore a sinister grin across it's face. "Aghh" Blake shouted, stumbling backwards, and landing on his rear. Hugh heard the commotion and spun around, spotting the Ghost Pokémon hovering above Blake. His hand shot into his pocket and he pulled out a Pokéball.

"GYAH!" he yelled, sending the ball spinning towards the Gastly. Hugh had the best aim in the school, but this shot in particular was exceptional. The ball hurtled through the air like a lightning bolt, zooming straight towards his target. It was an instant from hitting the Pokémon when the Gastly turned translucent for a moment, disappearing. The ball soared through the space the Pokémon had occupied, smashing into a tree with a sharp crack. Then the Gastly reappeared, as abruptly as it had left.

"Right," said Hugh, sounding oddly calm. He slowly edged backwards as Blake scrambled to his feet. The boys both gave each other a brief glance, "run?" ventured Hugh.

Blake gulped, "run." With that they turned and bolted. Darting through the woods in a blur, they dodged tree's and scattered leaves wildly around as their feet pounded on the forest floor. The Pokémon watched them disappear with a sardonic smile, not even bothering to pursue. It turned and floated out of sight.

It seemed to Blake and Hugh they had been running for hours as they finally skidded to a halt. Blake leant against a tree, holding it as he caught his breath, Hugh just sank to the ground and laid gasping. Blake recovered his breath first, he glanced around him, realizing how bizarre the forest looked. The tree's seemed to almost glow with a reddish tint, and the ivy that snaked up their trunks was adorned with speckled orange flowers, Blake pulled one off. It seemed hard to the touch, as if it was made from plastic, he pocketed it and turned to Hugh. "You seen this?" he asked.

Hugh looked around, still panting. "It's.. Surreal."

"Right, and look over here." Blake pulled him up, gesturing to a gap between some tree's ahead. There was a huge circular section that was desolate, no plants grew on it at all, and the ground looked scorched. "It looks like it's been.." He glanced around. "Burnt."

Hugh opened his mouth, "Listen we.." he began, but was interrupted when something screeched. A deafening sound unlike anything either had heard before, a primal burst of rage which thundered around them, shaking the entire forest, frightening in it's magnitude. Then from the woods before them, something burst out. Something long and thin, and as sharp as a razor, exploding from amidst the tree's like a lance, sending splintered wood and broken branches violently scattering through the air.

During the commotion Hugh's hand had somehow found another Pokéball, but he dropped it in the sheer wonder of what erupted from the trees next. A colossal bird, it's golden feathers shimmering like gemstones, it's titanic wings wreathed in flame. Blake and Hugh stood transfixed with awe in it's power and grace. It turned and looked at them, it's huge eyes were like hunks of molten rock, and gleamed with a keen intelligence. It took a step towards them and a wave of heat seemed to follow, the very air sweltered with it's magnificence. Then with a gentle flap of it's wings it lifted itself into the air. It let out another cry, and then in a flash of flame and a shower of sparks it was gone, leaving Blake and Hugh staring up into the sky in wonder.

Blake and Hugh had often heard Principal Lemant described as "brilliant but scatter-brained," something which his office reflected. A cup of coffee sat in the middle of the table, half-filled and with a pencil stuck out. All around it documents were scattered, drawings and illustrations, student papers, newspaper clippings. The walls were adorned with strange paintings and pictures; three or four of which looked like photographs of strange symbols, the biggest was a about a foot tall and behind his desk and chair. It showed the three legendary Pokémon: Dialga, Palkia, and Giratina, Palkia was on the left, Dialga on the right, and in the center Giratina stood on it's hind legs, a strange orb levitating above it's head. Blake tapped Hugh on the shoulder, gesturing at the painting.

"The creation trio." The boys both jumped, they hadn't heard anyone enter. "It's quite alright," the Principal reassured them. "Being curious is no crime, although I hear it did kill the Purrloin."

Blake gave Hugh a baffled look, seeing the same expression mirrored on his friends face. "I'm not sure I understand, sir."

The headmaster smiled. "Take no notice lads, something I recalled from my childhood.""The mind oft wanders to strange places," with that he gave them both a questioning look, adding. "I've heard you both did the same earlier." He brushed past Hugh's shoulder, pulling up a chair at his desk. "Tell me everything."

Osmund took a seat at the table. It was bare apart from a single candle that sat in the center, it's flame trembling. He heard shuffling from the end of the room he faced, and a tremulous cough. A figure appeared in the door. It wore a great hooded robe, the sleeves so long they hung almost to the ground, and the hood fell down concealing it's face. "How fare our friends?" it asked, it's voice was a weak hiss that seemed to fumble on the words, the voice of a man old before his years.

"As well as can be expected," Osmund replied. The figure nodded, satisfied, and began to limp across the room to him. It was a question he had heard a hundred times before, the answer to which those two alone knew. A method where either side would be able to distinguish an imposter. It seemed to take the man an age to stagger across the room, and even longer as he lowered himself into the chair, his movements slow and languid.

"What tidings?" the man asked, seated at last.

"Strange." Osmund answered, adding, "sir." He knew the man's name although he would not dare speak it aloud. Osmund launched into his reports without hesitation. "Rumors and whispers of a strange organization stirring in Sinnoh, calling themselves Team Galactic."

"Their purpose?" the voice asked, the tone inscrutable.

"Strange, it seems." Osmund began. "I've had several different accounts of them hitting museums, exhibitions, even dig sites."

"So it's treasure they covet?"

"So it appears, although none has been sold. It seems profit isn't their concern." Osmund shrugged, although the gesture was likely lost in the dim light.

"Who leads them?"

"That's not known either. It seems he prefers the shadows as well."

"Then root him out." The voice was commanding despite it's frailty. "How well paid are our spies in Sinnoh?"

"As well as the others," Osmund replied. "Better than some."

"Double it, and promise more to whoever learns this person's name and purpose."

Osmund cleared his throat. "With all due respect, that's like to cause some strife should our other spies find out."

"I don't intend them to find out," it replied. "Keep them occupied enough to ensure they don't."

"Good, sir. I shall." Osmund said. "Also sea transport to Hoenn is in shambles, some pirate wanting to make a name for himself. "The Crimson Corsair" his men have named him, he has half the ocean in chaos it seems."

"The sailors fear him?"

"He's given them cause," Osmund explained. "He plunders and attacks at will, taking what he desires and feeding the rest to the ocean. He's become something of legend amongst the other pirates, the survivors have said he's the first to jump aboard and the last to depart. He's as bold as an Arcanine and as strong as a Tauros."

"With the wits of the latter. Leave the pirate to his fun, he'll be taken down before long. Lets hope he drags some officers down to the brine with him."

"Understood."

"Anything else?" the man asked.

"Some small matters of coin." Osmund replied.

"I'll send someone else to deal with those," the man responded. He began to rise to his feet, struggling and drudging even more than before, Osmund knew better than to help him. He managed at last, his breath rattling and crackling he headed back to the door from which he had entered, lurching and staggering the whole time. Osmund pulled some papers from his pocket, spreading them across the table as he awaited the next man. Meanwhile the man emerged stumbling from the room, a servant shutting the door behind him. Someone else pulled down his hood and he stepped out the robe, his movements now robust.

"I'll go deal with the figures," a woman told him.

"Good," Giovanni responded, and his voice was normal, full of vigor.


End file.
